


Lost Little Coyote

by AngelInTheStreets



Category: Family Matters - J.H. Pratt
Genre: Bruises, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malik invites Coyote on a Not-Date, Secrets, spur of the moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 17:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20800037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelInTheStreets/pseuds/AngelInTheStreets
Summary: “I would expect you of all people to have sense enough to dress for the weather, Coyote.”"Malik."A chance meeting in a snow storm reveals a secret kept from an old friend. Coyote isn't sure rather he'd prefer the freezing cold whipping at his poorly clothed body or the scrutinizing stare of his friend that pins him in place. At least the cold would make for a quicker kill than the time that lurches by slowly as Malik prods at his faults and lies.





	Lost Little Coyote

**Author's Note:**

> I am really loving this ship!!! Its my new favorite pairing honesty!

The wind whipped up threateningly against his back, a roar in his ears as it pelted the side of his face. The cold nip leaving blotches of red against the exposed skin as he burrowed into himself, arms folded across his chest and shoulders hunched up as much as possible to shield himself. The snow that sprinkled the streets in the dreary mid afternoon left icy spots on the sidewalk that made navigating the darker evening a troublesome task. The heel of his boot nearly slipped as he skidded a couple inches, his heart hammering in his chest as he caught himself, arms flailing for balance. The dark locks tousled with frost clinging to the ends of his hair, frozen stiff in the short trek it took him to get from the cafe down the street to the next corner. 

He shivered pitifully, sniffing against the cold that made his nostrils stick together uncomfortably. He rolled his eyes as the little voice of chastisement in the back of his head harped him for the lack of a jacket. It wasn’t his fault that the weather turned so quickly and he didn’t expect to be out and about like this, stranded on foot. 

What started out as a quick outing, led him to waiting for hours only to get a late message alerting him to the cancelation of his meeting. He scowled at the snow coming down and chose to wait it out, hoping the weather would pass but the forecast on the cafe speakers claimed the storm was only going to worsen as night falls. Seeing no other out and getting a hot chocolate to go, he started to make the miserable three mile walk back home.

Half a mile in and he’s ready to throw in the towel. He dug his phone out to check his messages only to be alerted to his 4% battery life. Cursing aloud, he stuffed it back into his pocket and continued walking. The snowfall that proceeded with big fat flakes melted on his skin. He pulled his sleeves down past his wrists, curling his fingertips into the hems and holding them firmly in place as he resumed his cross armed posture, hunkered over himself.

A shiver down his back made his shoulders stiffen as an all new sensation made itself known. The cold wind wasn’t the only thing chasing after him. He dared a glance back over his shoulder only to be met with warm hazelnut eyes of a familiar friend. A long maroon scarf draped around his shoulders to keep the cold away with a thick black jacket buttoned up tight. 

“I would expect you of all people to have sense enough to dress for the weather, Coyote.” The man chastised, placing a hand on his shoulder as he pulled his scarf away and began wrapping it around Coyote's neck, slipping his black leather gloves off and handing them to the Canadian. 

“Malik.” Coyote managed through chattering teeth. Normally the one playing caretaker for everyone else, it felt strange to have the Organization’s librarian fussing over his well being with a snow storm coming. He didn’t refuse the offerings, accepting them graciously to prevent frostbite from setting in. He was no good for his job if his fingers don’t work right. 

The man clicked his tongue, pausing to look him over suspiciously. “Something’s wrong here.” 

Coyote’s blue eyes lifted to the librarian’s scrutinizing gaze, inspecting every inch of him carefully before finally speaking. “Where’s your toque?”

“Oh, in the wash. I uh, got blood on it the other day.” He shrugged dismissively as the librarian raised an incredulous brow. 

“Doing what exactly? You haven’t been on a mission in over a month, Coyote.” Malik's words weren't meant to come off barbed or accusatory but Coyote couldn't help the sickening feeling that squirmed in his stomach. The guilt that wrenched away at him as he took a step back and gave another half hearted shrug. 

"Can we do this somewhere else please? I don't fancy freezing my nuts off out here anymore." He offered, hoping the questions that rested on the tip of Malik's tongue would abate with time and be quickly forgotten for something more merciful to poke at. 

Malik's eyes softened on the younger man, though he was only a couple years Coyote's senior, he felt responsible in some way. The man had become a fixture in the Order, coming out of nowhere like a whirlwind and settling in quickly. He had a penchant for mischief but Malik saw the way he mentored the youths that were studying hard to impress their elders. He was smart, he was experienced and he cared about the job and its purpose even more than the Council and his elders did. He was a spitfire and the flame that illuminated the stuffy dull world that had become the organization. 

Yet, that was the exact reason why Malik had felt responsible for him. Out of everyone in the order, he felt closer to Coyote as he reflected himself in some ways. His out of the box thinking, the charm of mischief. Even the way he found excuses to idle in the library while Malik worked, pacing the shelves like a bloodhound. Malik thought him a fool at first but with time, his brilliance shown. 

A brilliance that wouldn't land a man like this unprepared in a snow storm. All signs pointed to something amiss but Malik didn't want to push. For all he knew of the younger man, Coyote was very outgoing but just as easily could curl up and lock himself off from the rest of the world.

With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Alright. My car is in the parking lot just around the corner."

Coyote curled his fingers into the newly obtained gloves, feeling the lingering warmth from the librarian. His eyes barely meeting the dark brown hues of his comrade, his middle eastern tones standing out more with the snow fall that drifted around them, easily coating the ground in a blanket of white. The cold clouds puffing out with every breath, floating up before him as he shivered again. The walk to Malik's car was a short one and he was thankful to slide into the front seat out of the relentless wind that battered him.

As the man got into the car, Coyote glanced over while he navigated his right leg into the space. It still surprised Coyote that Malik could drive with a prosthetic leg but sneaking a peek at the pedals, he had quickly realised they had been switched for left foot controls. 

He folded his arms in front of himself, fixing the seat belt in the process when he realized the car wasn't as cold as he anticipated. Coyote's head snapped up as he inspected the man at his side, narrowing his eyes in question. 

"I didn't hear you walk up behind me." He pointed out. The usual incessant squeaking of his false leg was a dead give away for the hunter's lingering presence but Coyote didn't catch a single whine from the faulty device.

Malik buckled his seatbelt and cranked the heat up as he scoffed at the younger man's inquiry. "I have a plastic substitute I wear when the weather is bad. It's not as sturdy but it helps get around when it's icy like today and I don't have to concern myself with frostbite."

"Why don't you save up for a decent leg?" 

"Cause I can't afford the upkeep and replacements if it breaks." Malik held his hands in front of the heater, letting them thaw from the short trip to the car without his gloves.

"Fair enough." Coyote chirped, leaning back against the seat.

"You didn't answer my question from earlier Coyote." Malik reminded, turning his expectant gaze on the man, begging to be let in if only a little. Malik's been in this profession for a long time, he knows what happens to hunters who squirrel away secrets like dead bodies. They decay and sicken over time and will eventually consume that hunter. It's never pretty and they've lost far too many to unpleasantries.

"I'm fine Malik." He said with a strained smile spread across his face, almost twisted and bitter. He slid the gloves off of his hands and sat them on the dash, turning away from the librarian with a sigh. His hand raised to ruffle the dampness out of his hair, wincing as he did so. His hand drew back to inspect the accumulated water from melted snow. "What were you doing all the way out here?"

"Putting in a few orders for new materials in the Archives." Malik's gaze never tore away from the Canadian. The little drawl and playfulness that normally made a home upon his features was distant and torn. This wasn't the Coyote he had come to know and grown fond of over the years. His fire looked all but fizzled out, the way he moved so stiff and jerky. The tension wound beneath the surface as he struggled to keep himself estranged from a friend. Malik wanted to reach out to him, to coax him back and lure him out of that space he had found an unsavory nook in.

"Anything good?"

"Hmm, maybe. Got one you should try checking out once in a while." Malik reached for the dials on the dash, tuning the radio to play softly beneath their conversation while he waited for the engine to warm up. 

"What is that?"

"How to talk to your friends. A book for dummies." Malik turned an accusatory look towards Coyote who couldn't deny the small twitch of his lips into the tiniest of smiles. It was rare for Malik to spearhead humor in their quiet moments and Coyote liked to savor every little triumph he could pull from the overly serious old lizard.

"Yeah? Is that an old favorite of yours?" Coyote chirped back, raising a brow at his companion. 

"You could say that. Seems it comes in handy when you're around." Malik let the smallest of smiles slip free as he started to pull out of the parking lot.

"I'm going to assume you were on your way home."

Coyote's head bobbed slowly as they waited to join the small blips of traffic that crawled through the snowy city streets. "Yeah."

"Why don't you stay at my place then?"

"You inviting me over for dinner?" Coyote chuckled, surprised by the offering but he shook his head. "Nah. I'm fine Mal, I'll just eat when I get home."

He watched Malik's fingers drum the steering wheel as he slid his gaze over towards his passenger as they slowed for a stop light. "You forget I've seen your dorm. Instant noodles do not consist of a proper meal."

Coyote begrudgingly followed along as Malik made a stop at a Muslim deli on the far end of the city to pick up something to eat. Before long they were back in the car, Coyote's lap full of boxes of warm food from a hot case and a bag full of cold drinks between his boots. The smell of food waking up his empty stomach that so far was sated only with a chocolate raspberry filled croissant and a cup of coffee earlier that day.

Their drive back to the school was much shorter with the low hum of music playing in the background. Malik didn't press for more information as he navigated the longer winding roads leading outside of the city to the school grounds. They entered through the back way where most of the Council and trainers parked. Malik helped carry the drinks while Coyote held the boxes of food like it was a blessing of the highest honor, making their way up the concrete path and slipping inside with the swipe of Malik's key card. The door lit up green as they were permitted entry into what Coyote realized was the back entrance to the library. 

A long empty hall greeted them as Malik kicked the snow from his shoes onto the black rug that ran the length of the entryway, before guiding Coyote deeper inside. Another swipe of the key card and he was shouldering open the next set of doors, this time leading into his little home within the school. Coyote figured this area was maybe the old teachers lounge and maybe an office or two joined together with a bit of reconstruction. The walls were an eggshell white and dull from age but the interior was tasteful and neatly put together. Malik shrugged out of his jacket to hang it up on the wall rack, taking a moment to slip his shoes off and leave them by the doorway on the mat. Coyote followed suit, sitting the boxes down briefly before trailing after him.

There was a small two person wooden dining table with chairs, the morning newspaper was laid out where Malik had left it, presumably during breakfast. A couch was tucked against the far wall with a side table and lamp to cozy down into. The worn dip in the cushions gaze Coyote a decent idea of where the grumpy old lizard liked to coil up into in his free time. 

The kitchen was small with enough space for a single person to work in. A fridge, oven and microwave barely fit in the space giving enough counter surface for a food prep area and a sink. A dish rack was crammed in the corner and a tea kettle still sat on the stove awaiting use to chase away the chill.

Malik stiffly set the table while Coyote began to unpack the meal, setting out the styrofoam containers to begin dishing out their own servings. He had to admit, it's been a while since he'd had chicken that wasn't cheap, greasy and purchased at a bar or from a drive thru window.

The meal carried on in idle conversation, discussing books and movies that interested each other. Talking about gossip, missions and even the problematic students that had recently taken to pressing Malik's buttons by testing trip wires out on the man between the shelves. They didn't turn out very well when Malik caught them. Even with his handicap, the man was no slouch.

Coyote laughed and loosened up as the meal continued, cleaning his plate twice over and relaxing back with a gatorade in hand. The red liquid drained almost completely as he smiled at the librarian, that same old devilish look that Malik had grown so fond of over time. It had been missing recently and made the man ache with concern for his comrade.

Coyote was quick to offer to clean up, letting Malik rest his leg, sipping at a cup of hot tea while he watched the Canadian. The way he hunched over the small sink with his tall frame, his tousled hair falling into his eyes while he scrubbed and dried their plates, returning them, clean to their cabinets. The warm gaze drank up the view as something Malik could definitely get used to seeing. He of course wouldn't admit to such an outrageous declaration but he could dream.

"Habībī." He purred fondly at the sight. Coyote turned with a questioning glance.

"Did you say somethin?" 

"Nothing to concern yourself with."

Coyote raised a brow. "Uh-huh. Alright then."

He dusted his hands off, leaving small dark wet marks from the dampness of his hands on the front of his shirt. He ran a cautious hand through his hair as he announced. "I should be going. Thank you for dinner and the ride."

"You can stay the night if you like. It's probably already snowing pretty badly and that's a long walk back to the dorms." Malik pointed out. 

"S'fine. I've walked through worse."

Malik stood up from his seat, closing the space between himself and the stubborn man before him. "I have a perfectly good couch you can crash on. It would be ridiculous to go out in this weather. What happens if you get sick?"

"I'll be fine Malik. You worry too much." He rested a hand on his shoulder to console him.

"Coyote." Malik returned the gesture only with a firmer hold to stop his retreat. He watched as Coyote winced upon contact, his shoulder dropping beneath the touch with weakness. Malik's eyes sharpened with concern, feeling the unsteady movement of his companion. 

"What?"

His hand dropped further down Coyote's shirt and before he could stop the librarian, he pulled the fabric up where he could see the roadwork of new and old bruises that littered his body. Large splotches of dark purple and smaller patterns of sickly healing yellows.

"Coyote, what is going on? How did this happen?" The stern tone that settled in place over the soft words of concern that tiptoed to the edges, steered Coyote into a corner. Malik could see the man start to clam up already, the panic that leaked into his eyes, the fear that jumped into his throat as he slowly pulled his shoulder away and pushed Malik's hand off.

He let go without any refusal, his hand falling to his side as he studied the other.

"Its nothing. Just a hazard of the job."

"Coyote, you haven't been dispatched in weeks. You haven't been in the training rooms either. You can tell me tall tales and fantastical stories all you want but don't you dare lie to me." He stepped forward, it was a slow movement, testing how far he could go. He expected Coyote to step back but his head only hung in response.

"You can talk to me. If anything is wrong, just say something. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No." His voice was small at first. His eyes searching for something distant, scanning through scenarios and outcomes, weighing his odds of how badly this could turn out. Malik could already sense he was looking for an escape but he refused to let that happen. He's seen too many good men die for reckless behavior. Senseless losses that could have been avoided if they had just asked for help.

"Is it money related?"

"No." It came more firmly this time but remained quiet still. 

Malik stepped closer, his eyes catching the stiffness in his body as he reached up to take his chin with the tips of his fingers. He forced the man to meet his gaze which Coyote did so hesitantly. For all his playful demeanor and spirit, Coyote was a bad liar. It took a bit of time for Malik to gather that tidbit of information when the first few times the man had squirmed like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, he had found it amusing. But now, it hurt. His inability to make eye contact and hold it, the light that bled out of his eyes. The desperation of a trapped man searching for freedom and cowering from a touch that could lead to more pain. 

Malik was careful in his contact as he inspected his body once more, looking at the worn out clothes that clung to his body. The small holes in the hem, the worn out seams in the sleeves where his thumb slipped through and rubbed against the fabric worryingly. He couldn't help but wonder how extensive the wounds were beneath all that. 

"You can trust me, Coyote. I don't want to see your name on the wall of the Dead." 

"I promise you, it won't come to that." The stillness that stretched between them. The way Coyote leaned into the touch of Malik's fingers along his jaw. The way his eyes fluttered shut, desperate for a calming touch that soothed his aches and pains.

"Let me help you."

There was a quiet pull of breath from the Canadian as he took a step forward, closing the space between them. The pause of uncertainty lingered in his stance but the willingness to hope was there as well and that's all that mattered. His head dipped low as Malik closed the gap, pressing their foreheads together gently. His hands raised up to brush against the sides of his face, fingers carding slowly through his hair when he felt the rise on the top of Coyote's head and heard the hiss through clenched teeth. 

"I don't know who did this to you, but I swear I'm going to make them regret it."

"I'm fine."

"You took a hit to the head, Coyote. Did you even think to check in with Levi?" The thought of severe underlying injuries jumped to the forefront of Malik's thoughts, filling him with dread. The fears ebbed only briefly as Coyote tried for a strained joke. 

"I guess that means you should give me a good old fashion examination then?" A choked out and nervous laugh followed it. 

Malik couldn't refrain from the roll of his eyes as he looked up to meet that lopsided goofy grin that spread thinly across his face. "Do I look like a Doctor to you?"

"I don't know. That big ol library and all, I bet you're pretty knowledgeable."

"Is this your way of distracting me or flirting?"

Coyote chuckled, placing a hand on Malik's shoulder and drawing him closer with gentle kneading motions with his fingers. "Hmm, depends. Which one is working better?"

"You're insufferable." The librarian hissed, hooking his fingers beneath the front of Coyote's shirt to ease it up his torso and over his head. It dropped to the floor, disregarded as one of many forgotten pieces to come. 


End file.
